Burn the World Down
by CheshireAsh
Summary: Bilbo Baggins was a hobbit, that much was true. There was something that did set him apart however. He did not start as a hobbit, and he did not always take the form of one. You might recognize one of his other names. He is also known as Smaug the Dreadful, Smaug the Magnificent, and occasionally Silvertongue.
1. Chapter the First

There once was a hobbit hole. This was a very long time ago, so if you go on your own adventure to find this hobbit hole and are unable to find it, well don't blame me. Inside this hobbit hole, you may find a nice warm meal with nice hospitality, or you might find it cold and empty, with dust covering every open surface. (Most Hobbits would be horrified by such a welcome).

On the days where this particular hobbit is not home, he is probably off plundering some village or possibly counting his gold again. The thing is this hobbit is not only known as Bilbo Baggins. He is also known as Smaug the Dreadful, Smaug the Magnificent, and occasionally Silvertongue.

You see, Belladonna Took and Bungo Baggins had found a young dragon stranded outside the Shire soon after a miscarriage of their own. They had taken him in and brought him to another wizard who gave him a temporary disguise. This disguise was able to be shed by Bilbo at any point in time, giving him back the characteristics of a dragon, but whenever he wanted, Bilbo could become a hobbit again.

The destruction of Erebor had not been a malicious event, planned years in advance. Bilbo had actually been quite young at the time, only five years parents had disappeared overnight, leaving signs of a struggle. Bilbo had panicked, following the trail that the dragon smugglers had left behind. The signs that had been left behind disappeared at a mountain. Unbeknownst to Bilbo, the mountain was Erebor and it was inhabited by dwarves. He landed on top of the mountain, and then he saw the forges.

Despite being so young, Bilbo knew that the people who had managed to capture his parents had taken them to some kind of forge in order to make weapons and armor, for dragon scales and dragon bones are among some of the strongest materials in the world. In a panic, he tried to find his family in the machines and lava. He ended up burning the place in the process, but Bilbo didn't mean to cause all of the death and destruction. He just wanted his parents back.

Alas, they were already gone, somewhere even farther west and over some unnamed mountains very far away. After everyone ran away, he continued on in the cover of night, but injuries that the dwarves had left him with continued plaguing him and he crashed in the forest near the Shire where Belladonna and Bungo found him.

On one fateful morning, Gandalf the Grey was walking down the path toward Bilbo's house. He was clad in a long grey cloak that masked his feature in a mildly ominous way. As if to contradict this, he was merrily whistling to himself, trying to envision the 'hobbit' that he hadn't seen in over a decades.

Gandalf came across Bilbo smoking a pipe in front of his house. He was perched on top of the sturdy fence that surrounded his property and he was currently smiling toothily at the hobbits who happened to be walking by. The group flinched before walking faster, muttering among themselves and avoiding eye contact with both hobbit and wizard.

This made Gandalf pause in the middle of his whistle. 'Why would the hobbits treat Bilbo like that?' He wondered. 'He was such a happy and well-liked little hobbit.'

Bilbo had known that Gandalf would be arriving long before he entered the Shire.

He was on his way returning from Erebor when he saw the wizard making his way toward the Shire. Concealing himself, he saw Gandalf meet up with several dwarves and heard them discuss their plans.

He had barely managed to stifle a chuckle at the plans. They were scheming to defeat him! As if that was even possible. Belladonna and Bungo, his surrogate parents, had taught him many different ways to defend himself, not all in his dragon form. The dragon form was quite useful though, as it did have the slight perk of fire breathing.

This might be a good time to mention that he did feel bad about taking the dwarves' home, but he did not feel bad enough to give anything back. He would have gladly given the mountain back, but his natural instincts dictated that he would not ever willingly give up his gold now that he had his claws on it.

As funny as the idea of this motley group defeating him was, the next event on their agenda happened to be recruiting a hobbit to help them! And it just so happened that the hobbit that Gandalf had in mind was one Bilbo Baggins!

At that point, Bilbo had removed himself from the scene. He was having far too much trouble holding back his laughter and after all, Belladonna and Bungo had also nearly beat into him how to properly receive guests.

Bilbo returned to Bag End, made enough cakes and other items of food for the dwarves, a wizard, and a dragon, all of whom had just returned from a long, arduous journey. He stored the food and decided to go wait in front of the hobbit hole for the group to show up.

So obviously, he was not surprised by Gandalf the Grey's appearance. He was however, surprised by the fact that the wizard was not accompanied by the dwarves.

Bilbo did not show his confusion of course. That would be poor manners. He simply jumped off of his fence post and strode up to Gandalf with his hand help out, clearly expecting a handshake.

Gandalf obliged with a large smile upon his face. "My dear hobbit," he exclaimed. "It has been far too long!"

Bilbo smiled in return. "Good afternoon Gandalf. I was just about to partake in some tea and cake. Would you like to join me?"

After they were both settled with food, Bilbo slyly asked, "How far have you come? "

Gandalf took a swig of his tea. "I have been walking for many long days and nights. It is an enormous relief to get off of these old legs in a comfortable area." He gestured around him. "And this is very comfortable." Thankfully, the wizard did not look too closely, for if he had he would have seen a layer of dust covering most everything.

Bilbo smiled. "Thank you for your compliments. Surely you did not walk for so long with no company?"

Gandalf looked uncomfortable, as if he did not want to reveal that information, so Bilbo smirked inwardly in victory. Making the wizard uneasy was always an accomplishment


	2. Chapter the Second

Gandalf quickly schooled his expression into the calm, full-of-wisdom expression that typically was on his face. "My dear hobbit, you are correct! Though I know not how you might know this, I did come with company. There is a company behind me of thirteen…" Here he paused, his gaze drifting around as if it were trying to find an answer somewhere around the room they were sitting in. "I traveled with a group of thirteen individuals."

Bilbo nodded. "Of course," he said, throwing as much sarcasm as possible into the response. "These 'thirteen individuals' with no race and no place to call their own."

Gandalf shrugged. "Much of what you say is true." He abruptly changed the subject. "So I see that nothing much has changed here in the Shire. Same old mundane place, filled with the same type of folks who have no sense of adventure."

Bilbo rolled his eyes at the jab that Galdalf had just subtly stabbed the whole hobbit race with. "Maybe these 'mundane' folks are perfectly content without losing their reputation out on some adventure without any profit."

"But adventures give such a fantastic profit!" Gandalf exclaimed, trying to convince Bilbo that his statement was wrong. "Even if we're ignoring the wondrous life lessons that you would gain from such an adventure, you would also come home with treasure!" He stood up to prove his point and ended up slamming his head into the chandelier hanging from the ceiling. "Ow," he groaned in pain. He slowly sat back down, rubbing his head.

Bilbo raised his eyebrows at Gandalf. "I'm seeming to pick up on the fact that your pronouns seem to be talking about me. We're not talking about the hobbits of the Shire anymore, are we? We happen to be conversing about one singular hobbit."

Inwardly, Bilbo grimaced at his slight disownment of his other race. Although Bilbo knew that hiding his dragon heritage was important when it came to protecting himself and gaining the favor of any of the other races, he did not like the idea of hiding such a core part of him.

Gandalf inclined his head, acknowledging that Bilbo was correct in his guess. "I am in need of a hobbit to join our quest."

"What do you wan-" Bilbo started before Gandalf interrupted him.

"I will show up with the company tomorrow night. Be ready for fourteen guests!" Gandald stood back up, this time much less aggressively. "Thank you for the snack and for the food, Mr. Baggins. I will see you again very soon." He winked and left the hobbit hole.

Bilbo rushed out after him yelling, "How do you expect me to prepare enough food for a wizard and thirteen other dwarves?!" He froze as the words escaped his lips, clasping a hand over his mouth.

Gandalf turned around, looking at the dragon (who happened to be in the form of a hobbit) with suspicion in his eyes. "Now how did a hobbit who never leaves the Shire know that I happen to be traveling with dwarves. I specifically remember that I withheld that particular information from you." He took a few steps in Bilbo's direction. Eyes narrowed, he peered at Bilbo as if he could find the answer to his question in his face.

"Ju-just a guess," Bilbo stuttered out. "What other type of creatures have no home?" He straightened up and adjusted his waistcoat. "I thank you for confirming my suspicions."

Galdalf looked mildly placated, but he still was suspicious of this excuse, for it was an excuse. Bilbo stood there under the wizard's gaze, trying not to fidget. Gandalf stood there for at least another minute before slowly opening his mouth. "Alright then. I will believe you for now. We will arrive at dusk. Please have food ready, these dwarves are a rambunctious bunch." He turned and walked down the rapidly dimming path.

Bilbo placed a hand over his quivering heart. It felt like a butterfly, or some other such creature, was trapped inside his chest, desperately trying to escape. He took a deep breath, held it for a second and then let it out.

"Why did I say that?" he muttered to himself quietly. "I'm going to give myself away." He took another shaky breath. "I've lasted this long without ruining everything and I have to go and nearly blow it all away in one word."

He walked into his hobbit hole, closing the door behind him. "I must go for a fly," he told himself." With that, he walked briskly back out the front door. He looked left, then right, then left again. He then turned away from the direction Gandalf had long since disappeared in and walked down the path in that direction.

After walking for a ways, Bilbo found himself in a forest. He sat down in a clearing and closed his eyes. He then shifted into his other form. It was a more destructive form to be sure, but all would agree that it is more magnificent. As Smaug, he was also much smaller than the legends made him out to be. He was only five decades old, and dragons live for several thousand years, at least when they are left alone to survive instead of being hunted and killed by the other races that inhabit Middle Earth.

His reddish- golden scales glimmered in the soft light that filtered through the branches onto the forest floor. He grinned toothily and let out a fearsome roar. He leapt off of the ground and surged through the branches and out into the open air. Smaug was glad that, since he wasn't actually a hobbit, it was possible for him to be further away from the Shire than anyone would believe. This allowed him to have fun when he wanted to, and be as loud as he wanted, without fear of discovery.

After frolicking through the air for about an hour, night had fallen on the land. Smaug settled down on the forest floor to consider what he had learned from Gandalf that day


	3. Chapter the Third

That night, Bilbo returned to his home and started preparing for the imminent arrival of the wizard and the thirteen dwarves accompanying him. It would be quite rude of him to ignore the needs of such guests, even just the thought made Bilbo scoff. That would be scandalous. Oh how the neighbors would talk. They will talk anyways, he reflected. Dwarves are not a common occurrence within the Shire. But they will talk about 'Mad Baggins' even more if he is not properly prepared for guests he decided with certainty.

Bustling around his kitchen, Bilbo collected his pots, his pans, and his ingredients. No self respecting hobbit, or even a dragon masquerading as a hobbit would even consider using such a thing as a cookbook! Bilbo shook his head at the thought. Just think, a nasty hobbit woman, who shall remain unnamed (but everyone who lives anywhere within a fifty mile radius of Hobbiton almost certainly knows the individual who is being referred to here), could come and steal your prize winning pie recipe and use it to claim that you had not made that recipe from scratch and instead she had made it, somehow using it as a basis to prove that you were not a proper hobbit and should be exiled with your home and all of your belongings now belonging to her because she is the most respectable of all the hobbits. But that was getting off topic.

Poor Bilbo was still rushing around his kitchen filling every one of his five ovens to the brim with appetizers, main dishes, and desserts. Soups were set on top of them, nearly bubbling over and filling the kitchen with a thick meaty smell. Salads were set on the tops of the counters, though in a much smaller quantity as he was fairly certain that he and Gandalf would be the only ones partaking in the leafy foods. Dwarves were known throughout the Shire for their dislike of the proper foods.

Just before tea-time, Bilbo set the table with the feast that had been made in his kitchen. Just as he finished, the doorbell rang with tremendous force. It had likely never been attacked the way his guest was now assaulting it the poor thing. Whichever one had arrived first was shoving his thumb into the button harshly and repeatedly.

Taking a deep breath to calm the rage he was feeling at the disrespect being shown to his hoard, no no his home. Proper hobbits don't have hoards and Bilbo could never hope to fit in while in Hobbiton if he continued to call everything he owned his hoard. After shaking his head and plastering on a bright, fake smile, Bilbo opened his front door and said, "I'm sorry to keep you waiting! I have a table full of fresh out of the oven food if you wish to partake in it now. Feel free to eat of wait for the rest of your company if you deem that to be the best course of action."

A large dwarf stood on the other side of the door, looking somewhat surprised at the onslaught of words he was being subjected to. He wore a deep green hood and had a blue beard tucked inside of his golden belt. The look of astonishment wore off of his face fairly quickly and he guffawed at the hobbit in front of him. "And I thought Gandalf said you were gonna be a meek, quiet little thing. He definitely got the small part correct, but I'm not quite sure about the meek and quiet parts any more. You don't seem to be either of those things Master...?" He trailed off, obviously fishing for a name.

The dragon side of Bilbo was incredibly haughty and did not appreciate being called meek, quiet, or small. He resisted the urge to turn up his nose with a sniff, closing the door in the ill-mannered dwarf's face. Instead, he managed a tight smile and said, "I would say not Master Dwalin. My name is Bilbo Baggins. If you would be so kind?" He gestured inward walking backward in hopes that his guest would follow.

He did indeed follow Bilbo inside, but the confused look was back. "Don't recall givin' him my name," he muttered to himself, obviously not expecting to be heard. As you may have heard however, dragons have excellent hearing in any form. The distance simply happens to correspond to the size. When Bilbo was in his magnificent dragon form, he could hear for miles upon miles. As a hobbit, he could only hear everything going on inside of Bag End while he was inside. While Bag End was not a modest hobbit home by any means, it had nothing when Smaug compared it to Erebor. Sometimes while in his hobbit form, he lamented his loss of hearing.

Being a hobbit did have other perks however, particularly as he was able to interact with other beings without them shying away based on their bias against his species. He huffed, reigning in a glare. Just because his kind likes their pillaging and murdering at times, doesn't mean that all dragons should be scorned for all time! For Yavanna's sake, men, dwarves, and elves do that too, but when a dragon eats one, singular person, everyone gets all up in arms and starts organizing quests to slay the monstrous beast who surprisingly has feelings, thank you very much .

Dwalin sat down at the table with an oath to start eating immediately so that the rest of his company couldn't take this spread from him. He instantly grabbed a hunk of meat and began gnawing on it as Bilbo returned to the door to wait for more guests. He did not have to wait very long, as the next dwarf, Balin, Bilbo remembered, showed up soon afterward. He wore a scarlet hood and had a long white beard. He appealed himself to Bilbo more than his brother had at his first act. Balin did not mash the doorbell like a perfect heathen. Instead, he smartly rapped on the door three times before waiting patiently, a skill that Dwalin should assuredly lower himself to learn. Bilbo opened the door, exchanged greetings with Balin politely and directed him to his brother in the dining room. He sat down on a chair recently positioned near the door to wait for the next dwarf to enter his premises.


	4. Chapter the Fourth

It did not take very long for the door to shake violently as a fist seemed to be attempting to break it down. Gandalf wouldn't allow all the dwarves to show up before him, right? Bilbo thought as he stood up to open the door. He wasn't sure how prying any new dwarves questions might be.

He opened the door, hoping to see the old wizard standing there with a twinkle in his eye. Instead two dwarves with blue hoods and yellow beards were standing there with huge grins on their faces.

"Hello Mr Dwarves," Bilbo said to the two guests at his door. "Would you like to come in?"

They nodded, stepping inside and bowing in unison, sweeping off their hoods. "Kili"

"And Fili!" the other dwarf interjected.

"At your service," the original dwarf finished, sending a subtle glare at his twin. "I was supposed to finish introducing myself before you introduced yourself this time!" he hissed.

"Fine, fine," Fili said flippantly starting toward the back of his smial.

"Excuse me?" Bilbo said, waving his hands above his head in an attempt to get their attention.

They turned to him in sync. "Yes?"

"Do you mind taking off your boots and leaving them at the door instead of being disrespectful and tracking mud all over a stranger's house? And not just any stranger's home, you are disrespecting your host who you just so happen to be trying to convince to join your suicidal quest. Perhaps you should be slightly more thoughtful?" He noticed that he was becoming increasingly flustered and took a deep breath, straightening his jacket and calming himself with that one movement.

Looking up, Bilbo notices that they looked shocked, as though an act of witchcraft had occurred in front of him.

Now wizardry was a perfectly reasonable profession and therefore welcomed inside the borders of the Shire. Witchcraft was a different matter. There had been one respectable witch named Hilda, but she had lived several thousand years ago and isn't much discussed among today's people. Nowadays, witches are considered outcasts and have been in hiding for hundreds of years after a particularly nasty incident involving a dwarf, a boot, a torch, and a broomstick.

"Uhhhhmmm," the brothers continued to be unable to comprehend what had just happened. Dwalin came out from the room with the food and grabbed them by their cloaks, pulling them backward toward the feast spread out on the table.

"Come on you two,," he said gruffly. "Stop harassing our burglar."

"Burglar," Smaug whispered as quietly as possible to himself. "How dare they call me by that diminutive name. Even if they want me to steal from myself, the burglar is going too far."

He looked up to the four dwarves looking at him strangely, Fili and Kili on the ground taking off their muddy boots looking up at him and Dwalin and Balin standing in the doorway looking confused. "What was that?" Balin asked.

"Nevermind," Bilbo said, smiling bashfully. "It doesn't matter." He ushered them to the table where they contented themselves by shoving their faces full of meat. Bilbo stood in the doorway, listening in on the conversation that started up after it appeared that many of the dwarves were not starving anymore.

The talk consisted of many topics, including gold, mines, and goblins attacking trading groups sent from the Blue Mountains. Oh, and there was also talk of stealing from and eventually killing dragons. Bilbo had to leave back to the entrance of Bag End to prevent himself from exploding and attacking those fools of dwarves.

"What did they think they were talking about?" He muttered to himself. "As though all dragons are evil and deserve to die only because of how they're born." He could understand that he might have potentially stolen their home and gold, but it wasn't as though it wasn't entirely deserved! He was just a baby at the time. If a whole kingdom of dwarves who lived with a full forge for making weapons in their home couldn't even defend their kingdom, which happened to be in a mountain, one of the most defensible structures ever made by nature, from a baby dragon who was just trying to find and save his parents, then they did not deserve to have such a magnificent hoard.

He huffed, clearing his head as the sound of a fist rapping on his door broke through his thoughts. The doorbell rang at an increasingly insistent pace and he hurried to open the door.

The group of dwarves that had been standing outside his door getting strange looks from his neighbors that had been on their daily walk hoped inside without even an invitation.

They introduced themselves as Dori, Nori, Ori, Oin, and Gloin, and they hung up their hoods and took off their muddy boots without much persuasion necessary. The inside of Bag End had become a throng, and Bilbo despaired at having to fix the plumbing after the whole affair was over. He had heard from Belladonna of the horrors of having dwarves inside one's home.

He again sat by the door, waiting for another group of hooligans to show up, and he was not disappointed.

A sharp sound came from his door, a sound very much unlike the sound of a fist and much more similar to the sound of a stick hitting his nice wooden and recently painted door. His door had been his pride, and people, both hobbits and men, had come from as far as the Brandywine River to admire it.

Bilbo knew that Gandalf must be the culprit and he stormed toward the door, fully intending to give the wizard a piece of his mind.

He opened the door, regretting this choice as soon as it opened just a crack. A whole hoard of dwarves fell on top of him, having been previously leaning against the door.

As Bilbo groaned from the bottom of the pile of four dwarves, Gandalf the Grey poked his head through the doorway. "Bilbo!" He cried jovially. "It isn't like you to keep your friends waiting on the doorstep and then open the door as quick as a pop-gun! Might I introduce you to the remaining members of the party, Bifur, Bofur, Bombur,and most importantly… Thorin!" He said this last name with a sort of regal excellence and looked toward Bilbo as though he should know why.

Of course, Bilbo did know the significance of the name, but it wasn't as though he was going to let the meddling wizard know that


	5. Chapter the Fifth

Three of the dwarves popped up and stood all in a row in front of Bilbo. "At your service," they chorused. They hung up their cloaks, as well as the cloak of Thorin Oakenshield, whose cloak stood out significantly from the rest. It was a bright sky blue and had a long silver tassel.

Bilbo slowly stood up, brushing off his waistcoat. "At yours," he said with a nod of his head. He then turned toward Thorin and raised his eyebrows questioningly. Thorin said nothing, instead choosing to stand in the doorway with what some would call an air of sophistication. Bilbo just labeled it as arrogance and grew quickly irritated by it, which may have caused his pointed look to become more of a glare .

For his part, Thorin was rather disgruntled by the fact that he had just landed underneath three members of his company, in front of a potential member of said company too! The fact that Bombur happened to be extremely fat did not help matters in the slightest. When Bilbo turned his piercing gaze toward him, the once king felt as though the fire of a dragon was burning deep within them, barely contained.

Of course, that was crazy. If his eyes had a fire inside hot enough to belong to a dragon, they would be burning at a temperature that would surely destroy the tiny figure standing defiantly in front of him. His eyelids would have burned away; his eyes would have first boiled, then burst. All in all, it would be impossible for this halfling's eyes to contain the fire of a dragon.

Even with all this evidence against the idea that this hobbit could actually be dangerous and hold the power of fire, Thorin had to physically restrain himself from flinching away from his stare. Instead, he forced himself to regard the hobbit, looking up and down and he judged his physical strength and general burglarness. What he saw was decidedly wanting. A slightly pudgy and very short hobbit was not what he had envisioned when Gandalf had told him and his company that he had found a suitable burglar.

The little staring contest ended with Bilbo turning toward Gandalf and asking him if he wanted anything to eat or drink.

He was met with a hearty laugh. "I would hope there is a little something left for the late-comers to eat and drink! What's that?" He turned toward one of the other dwarves who had since crowded behind their host. This one, although Bilbo certainly did not remember it, was called Ori and was holding a mug in his hands. "Tea! No thank you! A little red wine, I think for me."

"And for me," Thorin chimed in.

Bilbo nodded and ventured into his smial to find the old bottle he had been keeping for a special occasion. He had been planning to open it on his birthday, but Gandalf surely would have known through one of his wizardly senses that any other bottle was not the best one in the home and most certainly would have grown frightfully upset at this slight. Everyone knows that if you anger a wizard, it is not likely that you will make it out alive. Bilbo knew this better than anyone, having heard countless stories as a young dragon meant to frighten him from going out on his own. These stories were very effective and left him shivering in a corner for months after he heard the stories.

One particular story still frightened him to this day. A wizard from the far North named Jarl went on a dragon hunt. He felt as though he had been wronged by a dragon who lived in a volcano that inexplicably existed in such a cold climate. Jarl showed up to his lair. Surprised to find a whole family of dragons living there, Jarl showed no mercy and slaughtered the entire family. The parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and two dragonettes that were residing there at the time were all killed in increasingly gruesome ways. I won't go into the details for fear that you would be scarred for life to hear of how they were turned inside out or other horrible things.

Bilbo shivered at the thoughts and grabbed the best wine. He would do his best to never anger any wizard. Poke fun at? Irritate? Sure, that was all fun and games. When actual, full blown anger came into the mix, the wizard was the only one who would survive the encounter.

He returned with the bottle and offered a glass full of red wine to Gandalf. He offered another to Thorin. The entire company was sitting around the table with Gandalf at the head of the party and the other thirteen dwarves sitting around it. Bilbo sat off to the side on a stool near the fire, nibbling on a piece of meat and watching the proceedings with interest. The dwarves talked, and they talked, and they talked. In the midst of all this talking, time got along and it grew dark.

Soon enough, everyone was satisfied and Bilbo began to move to collect the plates, glasses, and utensils. "Will you all be staying for supper?" he asked in the politest voice that he could muster.

"Of course!" said Thorin. "And after. We shan't get through the business till late, and we must have some music first. Now to clear up!"

With that, twelve dwarves converged on poor Bilbo and he had to hold himself back from snarling as the items he was holding in his arms were ripped out. 'Not your hoard,' Smaug had to remind himself silently, taking a deep breath. If his breath was a tad hotter than it perhaps should have been and if a near invisible puff of steam came out of his nostrils, well no one was paying close enough attention to him to take notice of it. Even Gandalf, who was watching the going-on's with enjoyment, did not notice and for that, Bilbo was grateful.


End file.
